Childish
by CompletelyDone
Summary: Rose decides to go on an adventure in the early morning, and Scorpius tells her just what he thinks of her child-like behavior. One-Shot.


**Hey all. Just another one-shot for you guys. Enjoy! Please feel free to review and/or favorite!**

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"Keep up you lazy arse!" You're skipping along the dim corridor on your way to the kitchen. It's just past one in the morning and your best friend tails languidly behind you. "I want some chocolate cake," you remind him. "And ice cream."

"Give me a break, Rose," you hear him mutter as he sleepily tries to keep up, "it's so bleeding early." His eyes are blurred over and his white-blonde hair is disarranged beyond repair. It's only half past two.

You feel a bit guilty for waking him up off of the couch in the Ravenclaw common room, but your hunger outweighs your guilt as you impatiently pull at his arm. Plus, you've been told never to wander the corridors alone at night. That, and you're extremely afraid of being alone.

Stretching out your free arm to tickle the pair on the portrait, you put most of your weight into heaving your zombie-like mate into the deserted kitchens. "Oi, you need to cut the Treacle Tart diet you've been on, Scorp. You're a ton of bricks," you lie as you sit him down on the floor and move towards the fridge. You already know where everything you want will be. After all, you do sneak in here nearly every week for a late-night snack.

"I resent that, Weasley."

You know he's giving you one of his looks, but you don't dare to see which one. You're too busy trying to reach the platter of cake in the back of the fridge. That, and his face, even when it's drowsy and half-conscious, makes your stomach tingle in a dangerous, unexpected way. "Do you want ice cream?" you ask. "It's your favorite kind." Mint chocolate chip. You grab two spoons before he responds; if you're going to stuff your face so early in the morning, then so is he.

"Only if you don't keep making fun of me for being fat," he smirks, and you feel your cheeks turn red as you toss him his utensil. He's far from fat. Quiddich players are never fat. They're…. something else. Something that you don't want to associate with Scorpius at the moment.

You start picking away at the cake, not even caring that you're making a large dent in the side of its perfection. "Okay, question time!" you change the topic quickly. It's a game that you play with one another when you're bored. Or in this case, when you're trying not to focus on how you want to run your hands through his disheveled hair. "If you could be any kind of magical creature, what would it be?"

"Centaur. Easy." You watch his spoon glide across his lips as he swallows a mouthful of ice cream. Lucky spoon. Damn. You silently curse yourself for thinking that. "Alright, would you rather suck face with the giant squid or with Grawp?"

Your face wrinkles in disgust, "Neither. But if I had to, I would choose the giant squid. I love Grawp, but I feel like he'd mistake me for a deer and eat me."

"Yes, because you so closely resemble a deer," he laughs at you.

You find yourself staring at his crooked smile for a moment too long. Clearing your throat you speak up, "What's my defining quality?"

He smiles at you, "Your eyes."

That completely throws you off-guard. You shake it off and regain what little composure you have left. "Really? Not even my brilliant personality? Or my bushy hair, nasty freckles, or…" You trail off when you notice him staring at you.

You suddenly wonder if his eyes have always been that green, or if the lighting has made them look… different. His eyes are easily the best thing about him. And his smile. His stubbornness. The way he laughs with and at you. How he casually holds your hand in the hallway. You clear your throat and brush off your skirt, which suddenly feels too short. "Well, I'm done." You state before clearing the floor of all food and making your way back to the corridor.

After a few moments, during which he is putting his ice cream away, you can hear him following silently behind you as always.

To your right, you see the sky light up before the air is filled with millions of raindrops. You squeal and run outside as quickly as you can. Half because you love the rain, half because you need a distraction and a reason to run away.

Your father used to dance with you in the rain. He used to splash puddles at you when your mum wasn't looking, and you'd drag him underneath the drain near the house when she was. You never got over that, and still crave the feeling of being sodden and free. It's pouring so heavily that your school uniform is soaked through in a matter of seconds, but you don't care. You hop through pools of rainwater and skip around like you're a crazy who had just been released from Azkaban. You even ruin the expensive shoes your grandmum Granger got you last year, but you really don't care.

Above all of the noise of the rain, you hear a beautiful sort of laughter. It's Scorpius. He's leaning in the doorway watching you make an utter fool of yourself. But you resume when you notice how his hair is worse right now than yours will ever be.

"You're a child, Rose!" he yells out to you not a minute later.

That stops you. Suddenly, you're all too aware of how your uniform is clinging to your small frame and how outlandish you look tromping through puddles. You're not nine anymore. He must think that you're immature and foolish. He has every right to, really; you are a child at heart. You just never realized how shameful it felt to have someone else point it out to you. Especially him.

He notices your change in attitude; a visible frown forms on his perfect face. You decide that you like it better when he smiles. His eyes have lost that magical color.

"I'm sorry," you manage to say, even though you'd rather just cry. You consider staying out in the rain if that happens; he doesn't need to know.

You're surprised when you hear the crunch of gravel not ten feet from you. Malfoys are too dignified to walk in the rain. That's what he always told her when she asked why he carried an umbrella with him. But here he is, standing in front of you as raindrops calm his wild hair and leak down his pale face.

"What I meant to say was that you're absolutely adorable," he says to you.

Wait. Adorable? You're convinced that he's gone crazy. Or blind. He must not be able to see the way that you look at the present.

He shakes his head and steps towards you. You're anxiously trying to ignore that fluttering in your stomach, but it starts to creep into your arms and up to your chest. "That wasn't what I meant."

Right. Of course he didn't. That wouldn't make any sense. You stare down at your ruined shoes and blankly wonder if your grandmum will replace them this coming summer.

When a warm, wet hand clasps yours, you jump and look up in surprise. "What I meant to say," he says slowly, raindrops still dripping from his hair, "is that you're beautiful. Crazy, but beautiful."

You're convinced that your heart is going to explode when he tentatively reaches to brush your deep red hair from your eyes. His fingers leave a tingling sensation on your skin. Stepping back, you swallow and look anywhere but at him. "I don't think I'm the crazy one. Clearly that's you if you think th-"

You never get to finish reprimanding him for thinking such a thing because suddenly he's gripping you fiercely against himself and moving his lips against yours. You eagerly hold him close because Merlin have you dreamed of this.

When he pulls away, you feel a noticeable absence in all of the places that he's touched you. You feel the rain falling down into your eyes and onto your bare legs. He looks nervously down at you. "Was that uncalled for?"

"Yes," you respond honestly, but grab a hold of his dripping green tie before he can move, "but not unwelcome."

He beams down at you, reminding you why you fell for that smile in the first place, and spins you around before kissing you once more. You think that your heart actually explodes when you see the way that his eyes light up at you, even more so than before. "I think I'll change my answer then," he tells you.

"What answer?"

"Well at the present, I'm rather captivated by your lips," he bites his own and searches your face.

"That makes two, Mister Malfoy," you say as you hungrily bring him closer.

If this is what you get for being childish, you never want to grow up.


End file.
